Page 40 of Reckless Flames

My phone was my lifeline, connecting me to a network of contacts I’d built over years of service. Each call brought a new piece of the puzzle—a sighting here, a suspicious online interaction there. I scribbled notes furiously, the paper in front of me a testament to the night’s efforts.

“Got anything new for me?” I asked into the phone, my voice rough from hours of similar inquiries.

“Yeah, I might have something,” came the reply, a hint of triumph in the tone. “Our friend made a purchase recently, something that could be used for surveillance. It’s not much, but it fits the pattern.”

“Good work,” I responded, my mind already racing with the implications. “Send me the details. I want to know everything.”

As I compiled the information, a profile began to emerge from the shadows. The stalker was meticulous and patient, but there were patterns in his behavior, small mistakes that he’d made. It was these mistakes that would lead to his undoing.

The room around me was a cocoon of light and shadow, a reflection of the dual nature of my work. For every piece of information that illuminated part of the stalker’s life, there were dark corners that remained, hiding his motivations, his next move.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching muscles stiff from hours of tension. The work was far from over, but the foundation was laid. I had a plan, a series of moves and countermoves that would ensure Sophie’s safety and unmask the threat lurking in the shadows.

The clock ticked on, the early hours of the morning creeping up on me, but fatigue was a distant concern. My focus was singular, honed by years of training and experience. This was more than a mission; it was personal. Sophie had become a part of my life, her safety intertwined with my own sense of peace.

As dawn broke, painting the sky with the first light of morning, I finally allowed myself a moment of respite. The information I’d gathered was comprehensive, a testament to the network I’d built and the skills I’d honed in another life.

I stood, stretching my legs and taking a deep breath. The quiet of the house was a sharp contrast to the chaos of the night’s work. In a few hours, the wedding would begin, a day of celebration that I was determined to protect at all costs.

As I made my way to bed, the first rays of sunlight filtering through the windows, I knew that the day ahead would be a test of all I had prepared.

The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, a stark contrast to the shadows that had occupied my thoughts for the past several nights. After a few hours of restless sleep, I was up and moving, fueled by a potent mix of adrenaline and black coffee.

I had arranged to meet my small team at a discreet location, a nondescript café that offered the privacy and anonymity we needed. These were individuals I trusted implicitly, each skilled in their own right, drawn from the pool of talent I had worked with over the years. Their expertise would be crucial in ensuring the day went off without a hitch.

As I entered the café, the low hum of early morning conversations provided a comforting backdrop to the task at hand. I spotted my team seated at a corner table, their casual attire blending in perfectly with the surroundings.

“Morning,” I greeted them, my voice low as I took a seat. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

They nodded, their expressions serious, understanding the gravity of the situation without needing to be told.

“Here’s the situation,” I began, my eyes scanning the group. “We have a potential threat, a stalker who’s been making life difficult for someone close to me. Today’s her sister’s wedding, and we can’t let anything ruin it.”

I laid out the details, the information I had gathered, and the profile we had built of the stalker. The team listened intently, their professional demeanor a reminder of the many times we had faced similar situations, albeit under different circumstances.

“Our job is to blend in, stay on the lookout for anything or anyone suspicious. We’re there to observe and protect, not engage—unless absolutely necessary,” I continued, laying out the operational parameters.

One of my former colleagues, a seasoned field operative with an eye for detail, raised a question. “Do we have a current photo of the target, any specific behaviors or patterns we should be aware of?”

I nodded, passing around a photograph of the stalker. “He’s been seen around some of the places his target frequents. Keep an eye out for anyone matching this description and be aware of anyone who seems overly interested in her or her family.”

The team studied the photo, committing the face to memory. The conversation shifted to logistics, discussing positioning, communication signals, and emergency protocols. Despite theinformal setting, the air was charged with the unspoken understanding of the risks involved and the professionalism required to mitigate them.

As the meeting drew to a close, I felt a sense of reassurance. These were individuals I had trusted with my life on countless occasions, and today was no different. “Remember, we’re ghosts. We’re there but not seen, always watching, always ready.”

The team nodded, their faces set in determined lines. We finished our coffee and stood, the meeting concluding with a round of firm handshakes.

As we dispersed, melting into the morning crowd, I felt the weight of the day settle on my shoulders. The wedding was a celebration of love and family, a day that should remain untainted by the darker aspects of the world we were all too familiar with.

I went back home to change for the wedding and then made my way to the venue, the plan firmly set in motion, my team positioned and vigilant. Today, I was not just a former operative; I was a friend, a protector, ensuring that joy and love were the only forces at play.

Chapter twenty-three

Sophie

Waking up on the morning of Madi’s wedding, the air was thick with a mix of anticipation and nostalgia. The room was bathed in the soft light of dawn, casting a warm glow over everything. Madi was already awake, sitting on the edge of her bed, lost in thought.

“Can you believe it’s today?” she whispered, her voice thick.

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